


Him

by BlindBunny



Series: Nightmares [1]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Clowns, Creepypasta, Horror, Laughing Jack kind of, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Monsters, Murder, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, POV First Person, Scary, Scary Clowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 16:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20531042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlindBunny/pseuds/BlindBunny
Summary: He is always there.





	Him

His hair is pitch black, spiked up with dried blood.

His clothes monochrome, his ridiculously big shoes just as black as his eyes.

His pale skin matches the wall behind him, white but not pure. It looks washed up. It looks old. It looks like wet white paint.

His is skinny, so skinny that his ribs are visible even through his shirt.

His hands are enormous, not proportional to his body. His fingernails are long and sharp, painted black.

His nose is not a red ball. It’s a pink cone that stands out. It doesn’t feel like it’s part of him. It looks out of place.

His feet never touch the ground, as he is always floating just centimeters above. He has no wings but I’m sure that if he did, they would be just as black as his tongue.

His smile is permanent. It never drops and he never frowns.

His words are cruel. _You are not allowed to ignore me,_ he says. But I try to tune him out anyway.

His voice is deep but rough, like the one of a heavy smoker and it always deepens when he barks orders. It easily becomes high pitch when he is high on bloodlust.

He never yells but he never whispers. No one else can hear him and he knows that yelling at me is no use, it doesn’t work as well as threatening me.

He is always looking at me. I can feel his eyes burning holes into my body as he stares. He never looks away. Never.

He is calm as he tells me I have 30 minutes left. _Tick tock, love_. He points out the time and I try to leave but the teacher tells me to sit back down. I give her excuses but she doesn’t let me leave. I beg her but she only gives me a warning look before going back to writing on the whiteboard. _Tick tock_.

He never leaves my side and he never stops talking.

He is always happy when I’m running late; he giggles as he points out I have 10 minutes left to find the body.

He gives me hints sometimes._ It’s getting warm_, he says as I reach the last classroom on the last floor of our school building. _Hot_, he lets me know as I enter the room.

His smile widens as I look around the music room. There is a foul smell but I can’t tell where it’s from.

His hourglass disappears, the last drop of sand not having the chance to pass through the small tunnel. _I’m not that cruel. Your teacher did refuse to let you leave, after all. Find the body and you can go home for today. Find the body and tomorrow you will see your friends again. Find the body and I will allow them all to live another day._

He never kills students. I make sure of it.

The bodies he hides are all strangers. _Outsiders_. People I have never seen in my life but the people that he hates. He says they’re bad people; child predators and rapists, serial killers and animal abusers.

The body is chopped today, stuffed into the empty inside of the big drum. Blood is leaking out, getting everywhere.

The look he gives me is a proud one but I know better. He is already thinking of what will happen tomorrow. He is already thinking of a new way to mess with my head, to bully me. He is already thinking of his next kill and he is already anticipating my failure, he is already planning the death of my friends.

_I like playing with you_. He says. _But your reactions are not funny anymore. You don’t scream anymore. You don’t cuss me out anymore. You don’t care anymore._

_Be honest, do you even have a heart anymore? If I were to kill your parents, would you care? Would you cry? Would you call me bad names? Would you wish there was a way to get rid of me?_

_You never smile anymore. I miss your smile but I like this new expression of yours. Your eyes are cold and that shine of hope that used to make your eyes stand out, it’s also not there anymore. You’re even starting to wear more black, I wonder if it’s because your life is a never-ending funeral… or perhaps the funeral you’re waiting for is mine or even your own._

_I can help you die, you know. I can nail you to the wall and cut you open. Play with your insides first, squeeze your organs until you pass out. Wait for you to wake up so I can skin you alive._

_What do you think I should do with your skin? Give it to my next target? Or perhaps, fold it nicely inside a gift box and send it to your parents? That sounds lovely, a small parting gift is always so thoughtful. I bet they would be proud, having such a considerate daughter._

_Perhaps we could send bits and pieces of you to your teachers. I know that blonde slut would just love to have your little heart waiting to be found on her porch. Perhaps donate your skeleton to your biology teacher?_

_There are so many possibilities, just give me the word and I can take your last breath. You know I would. You know I would do anything for you._

**If you would do anything for me then why don’t you go? Why can’t you just leave and never come back?**

_I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Miss Jones. We talked about this, why bring it up again? I told you I’m never going to leave. I’m the only one who cares about you, aren’t I? I make sure you’re healthy, I make sure you eat and drink enough. I make sure you stay alive, didn’t I just save you from a car crash last week? That truck that just barely missed your jeep? Come on, I hope you didn’t actually think that it was pure luck. I was the one to push the truck out of the way._

_The neighbor that died last year, that was supposed to be you. Aren’t you grateful you still have a heart? I’m sure that girl would have loved to keep her heart, she would have been grateful. Poor little thing was supposed to get married too but instead of a wedding, she got a funeral._

_The girl who was beaten to death was supposed to be you. You were the one that group of delinquents wanted, you snitched on them after all, but I still saved you. Because of you that girl was raped and thrown into the sewers._

_What do we say to that?_

**Thank you.**

_Well done. Now be a good girl and go home._

_Go on, there is no reason to be afraid._

_I will be just behind you. Watching._

**You always watch.**

_I do, yes. I need to take care of my favorite toy after all._

**Author's Note:**

> As I was editing this before posting it, I realized that my clown looks like Laughing Jack but I am not changing anything about him because this series that I am starting ('Nightmares') will be about my nightmares. This work is basically my dream put into words, which is what I want from this series, no I am not changing anything.


End file.
